Fruit
by NancyMay
Summary: Past and present collide in this Lucien and Jean story.
1. Chapter 1

After a short diversion via Bill Hobart I am back to Lucien and Jean. Hope you like it.

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Jean drove past the turn to the old farm, now abandoned since the Dempster case, and stopped suddenly. There was something different, some kind of post with a notice attached. She reversed, and turned up the track, feeling her heart flutter with nerves.

'SOLD'

She knew the farm was up for sale but up until now nobody had wanted a place that had housed a murderer and where the ground had been poisoned. It looked sad and run down, the barn was barely standing and a good storm would bring it down she felt. There didn't seem to be anyone about so she got out of the car and wandered into the yard. The Aloe plant was thriving, probably the only thing that was.

The door appeared to be open and she pushed it a little wider calling,

'Hello! Anybody there?' There was no answer, the place seemed deserted. She tiptoed in, so aware it was no longer her home, hadn't been for so long, so much had happened since she had sold it herself. She moved around the house hearing the sounds of her boys running through the rooms, the laughter and tears of past years. She hoped a family had bought it, it was a good place to bring up children, room for them to play. There was the smell of mild damp, of a house so long unoccupied. She peered into what had been her living room, a bed roll was by the fire, which appeared to have been lit at some time, probably the previous night. Somebody was living here. That made her nervous and she decided she'd better leave.

Back outside she couldn't see anyone and decided to leave before she was charged with trespass by whoever owned the place now.

She got in the car and drove back thoughtfully to Ballarat and her husband.

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He watched her go and smiled. He hadn't wanted to disturb her as she wandered through her memories and had stayed out of sight. She was not a threat. He went inside and made a cup of tea. Ruth Dempster's old stove worked enough for him to boil a kettle and fry some bacon. It was one of the first places he decided he needed to sort out. He needed to make the place earn it's keep, and he had thought that he would resurrect the orchard. The soil was still not good enough to grow much where the lettuces had once grown. He hoped at some point that it would produce perhaps strawberries or gooseberries. His idea, somewhat grand for a young man, was to turn it into a market garden, to produce fruit to sell either at the market or direct from the farm. He'd like, in the future, to supply local hotels and restaurants, there were enough in Ballarat to make a reasonable living from. For now he would have to be careful with the money he had made working on farms or building sites, saving his wages by sleeping in the cheapest of boarding houses or under the stars in the warm weather. His past was just that, past, and he wanted to show his family he could make a decent living and keep out of trouble.

So back to the orchard. A couple of apple trees, plum and pear, stood as they had all those years ago, in need of pruning but they looked like they had produced a good crop the previous year, if the fallen fruit was anything to go by. He would need to buy more trees; there was already an apple farm so he'd concentrate on the other fruits more than those, but he'd keep a few going. He wondered if peaches would grow. Two trees would be a good starting point, he thought.

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Jean unloaded her shopping, still musing on the farm. Lucien had heard the car draw up and went to help her, kissing her as she handed him a basket.

'Get everything you wanted?' he asked, noticing she seemed distracted.

'Hmm...Oh, yes.' she muttered as she followed him into the house.

'Something wrong, Jean?' He put the basket on the table and started to put the food away. 'Jean?' She hadn't answered him.

'Uh, oh, sorry, Lucien.' She smiled realising she had been miles, and years, away. 'I passed the farm on the way back.'

'Ok, I didn't think you were going that far out.' She had, as far as he knew, only gone to Ballarat market, not out any further. Not that he minded, it was just odd, that was all.

'It's been sold.' She told him. 'Somebody's there.'

He looked at her, puzzled.

'I went up to the house. It was unlocked,' she looked a little shamefaced at admitting she had been snooping, 'there was a bedroll in the living room.'

'Did you meet the new owner?'

'No, when I realised there was someone there I made a quick getaway.' She flushed, embarrassed.

'Perhaps you'd better wait for an invitation next time.' He suggested and wrapped his arms round her, kissing the top of her head.

'So many memories, Lucien.' She whispered into his chest.

'We could make some more, if you like.' She looked up at him, he had a wicked twinkle in his eyes as he pulled her close to him, leaving her in no doubt what he meant.

'Lucien,' she said in an urgent whisper. She was quickly learning her new husband had an almost insatiable appetite for her body. That said, she wasn't complaining, and Charlie was on a late shift today so wouldn't be in for dinner! Then she giggled as his desire became more apparent.

He bent over her and kissed her, very deliberately. Then he picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. He'd found the only conservative thing about his new wife was that she insisted they satisfy their desires in the bedroom. She didn't mind how they satisfied them, just that it was in the bedroom. He'd tried to interest her in a tumble by the fire in the studio, a fumble in the surgery but no, it had to be the bedroom, well at the moment.

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He'd been surprised on their wedding night how willing she was, willing to learn new ways to be pleased by him and new ways to please him. They had managed to leave their hotel room by mid morning each day, on their short honeymoon, but would return for an early dinner, served in their room, and more exploration of each other's bodies. So much to make up for.

She had surprised herself, after the first tentative touching how much she wanted him, and gave herself to him more completely than she had ever done Christopher. Lucien excited and thrilled her every time he found a place he hadn't kissed or caressed and places he had.

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As he placed her gently back on her feet she started to undo his shirt buttons as he drew the zip down the back of her dress. Their undressing of each other became frantic. As his shirt was lifted off his shoulders she moved her hands down to his trousers and he pulled her dress down, both garments fell to the floor, the rest came off as he pushed her back onto the bed and took her round the world and back again. She arched under him gasping and crying out with pleasure, then sinking back onto the bed, breathing hard. He pulled the blanket round them and they lay touching and kissing, finger light touches that made her shiver and want him again. They made love again, slowly, thoughtfully, taking their time to enjoy each other.

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He lay looking at her curled towards him, sleeping like an innocent child. She was so beautiful to him, he cherished her more than life itself. Seventeen years was a long time to wait for this kind of love. He slipped his arms round her and held her gently, not wanting to let her go.

She stirred and sighed. She knew she should get up and do something useful, like finish putting the shopping away or make dinner, but she was warm and comfortable where she was. She opened one eye and looked at him, as usual he was smiling at her and she smiled back.

'Hello, lover,' she murmured.

'Hello, you wicked lady, ' he whispered back.

'I've been hi-jacked again, haven't I?' She grinned, lazily.

'Uh uh.' He kissed her, 'looks like.'

'Oh well, as we're here...' And she smirked at him.

'Bloody hell,' he grinned.

'You started it.' She laughed and kissed him before sliding out of the bed and heading for the bathroom to tidy up. she didn't need to dress again, they'd have retired to bed before Charlie came home, so she tied her robe around her naked, but marked body, and went to prepare a light supper.

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Came very close to M there, need to rein it in a bit.

Reviews and comments very welcome, have I gone too far?


	2. Chapter 2 Why?

**Six months later:**

Lucien had taken Jean's mind off the sale of the farm by various means. He had decided she should be a partner in the business and persuaded her to take courses that would mean she could administer the clinic. She could deal with regular child check-ups, a kind of baby clinic, arrange vaccinations and referrals to the doctor and follow up appointments when required. He, himself, had taught her to take blood pressure readings and record them for patients such as Agnes Clasby and prepare repeat prescriptions for his signature, she became a kind of practice nurse. At one point she had wondered if it were too late to train as such.

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She was passing the farm again on the way back from seeing one of Lucien's patients. A woman who had given birth a month ago but wasn't attending clinic. This was one of Jean's duties, as it were. Some of the female patients were reluctant to discuss their worries with a man, even if he was a doctor. Jean knew what it was to be a first time mother with no one to advise and support so Lucien had asked her to attend some of these mothers. She had attended a mother who was struggling to feed her child herself. Tearful and frustrated Jean saw herself with her firstborn and told her she wasn't a bad mother, the first fear, and that it would soon get easier. She had taken some bottles and formula and shown her how to prepare the feed if it all became too much and not to feel a failure. After tea and help to get the child to latch on Jean had left, feeling she had been useful and had made a difference.

She slowed as she passed the turning. Dare she drive up and past the entrance? It would be a long diversion if she did, and the fuel gauge was too low for that. The sign had gone, which was good, but she couldn't see anything else. She decided that she had better get back and prepared to move off. She did everything right, indicated, looked all around and slowly pulled away when it appeared clear, it wasn't a busy road. She had barely moved when there was a crash, she was thrown forward on to the steering wheel, and the car lurched to a halt. She fell back against the seat and through a haze of dizziness saw a car roar away from her down the road.

She couldn't clear her vision or the dizziness, and there was something warm running down her face. She vaguely heard a voice from afar,

'Hey!' It shouted, 'are you alright?'

Then the door being wrenched open and,

'Bloody hell, Mum?!'

It was a dream, the dark hair and blue eyes, they couldn't be there. Where was Lucien, she needed Lucien.

'Mum!' Insistent now , Mum!'

'Not now Jack, mummy's tired.' she managed to mumble.

She felt herself being lifted out of the driver's seat and she nestled against the strong chest.

'Lucien?' She questioned, weakly as the cool air of the late afternoon wafted over her.

'I'll get him when we get to the house.' The familiar voice soothed.

He kicked the open door wide, and took her into the bedroom, laying her gently on the bed. He ran to the phone in the hall, and dialled the doctor's number,

'Blake surgery.' Lucien's voice answered,

'Doctor,' he said, breathless, 'can you come out to Dempster's farm? It's... it's your wife, she's been in an accident.'

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'I'm on my way.' Back in the house he cursed that Jean refused to let him buy her a small car to run around in, now he'd have to call Matthew and an ambo, a taxi wouldn't be fast enough.

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She looked so pale as she lay on his bed. He pulled a blanket over her and went to get water and a clean cloth to bathe her forehead. The blood was beginning to dry on her face and it looked like her face had been slashed open.

He cleaned her face as gently as he could and was glad to see that it was a cut to her forehead and not a split down her face. How many times had she bathed his knees and elbows in this very room when he was a child, now he was repaying her.

He'd not wanted her to know he was back in town, not until he'd started to make a success of the farm, and he was sure he could, by hook or by crook, he would. He's spent the time since their last meeting; when he'd let her down so badly and left her with Dr Blake; jealous that someone could try to take his father's place in his mother's heart. But time had healed that anger, that hurt and strangely, when his brother had called to say that she was marrying Blake he had been glad, even happy for her, laughing at his brother's suspicious attitude. He'd teased Christopher about only wanting a nursemaid or babysitter when it suited him. Marriage suited her, even in this state she looked happier, younger than he remembered.

A knock on the door and a voice interrupted his thoughts, he stood up and went to the bedroom door,

'In here, doctor.' He called.

Lucien looked at him and stopped momentarily.

'Jack?' He questioned, but this was no time for idle chit chat, he went into the room and was shocked to see Jean so pale and unmoving.

'What happened?' He asked, as he started to examine her.

'I'm not really sure.' He admitted, 'I was just checking the peach trees and I heard a crash and roar of an engine. When I got there the car was half in the ditch. By the look of the side of it, it had been hit pretty hard.'

Jean started to come round, she moaned and turned her head towards the voice. She blinked and put her hand to her head, which hurt.

'Jean,' Lucien called, softly, 'Jean, look at me, please.' He gently took her hand away from the cut on her forehead.

She turned her head to the other voice.

'Lucien?' Barely a whisper.

'Hello, sweetheart.' He soothed, 'are you hurt anywhere other than your head?'

'Hm..?' She thought her way down her body, 'My neck's sore.'

Lucien put his hands carefully under her head and gently probed , hearing her wince. 'We'll get that x-rayed back at the hospital.' He smiled at her. 'Try not to move your head.'

Her eyelids fluttered as she tried to keep them open. She was so confused, the room seemed familiar and she was sure that was Jack at the other side of the bed. She started to cry.

'Hey, come on love.' Lucien reassured, 'you'll be fine, I'm sure.' He stroked her head, 'the ambo'll be here soon.' Though where it had got to he didn't know.

'Jack.' She hiccupped.

Jack looked over at Blake who nodded, letting him know he had to assure her she wasn't dreaming. Her confusion was frightening her.

Jack sat down on the edge of the bed, taking her hand. 'Hello mum.' He squeezed her hand, 'it's ok, you're not dreaming.'

The ambulance finally arrived, as did Matthew who had been at the car. He passed Jean's bag to Lucien and said he'd see him back at the hospital and would also see that the car was towed back to the station.

'Thanks, Matthew.' Lucien turned to Jack, 'come over in a couple of days, she'll be at home then, I hope.'

'Ok, I'll ring later, see how she is.' Jack watched them go, his mother wrapped in a blanket on the stretcher with Lucien walking beside her, holding her hand.

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It was just luck, he told himself, good or bad, he wasn't sure. He'd wanted to get the farm up and running properly before he let her know he was in the area. He hadn't even told Christopher. All he'd told him was that he had bought a property and was setting up a business. After leaving the farm he'd struggled to understand what, or who, he was. The wider world had caused him nothing but irritation and confusion, which was why, he decided, he'd gone off the rails and let his mother down so badly.

After roaming about he had decided he was a farm boy at heart and that was when he knew he had to somehow get enough funds together to find a property that would serve his purposes. He'd not planned it would be the family farm that was just the way the dice fell, but it was going cheap because of the recent history. That history had meant the developers didn't want it anymore, either.

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Jean's x-rays showed nothing untoward, and after putting a collar on her to keep her neck still she was allowed home to be nursed by her husband. Lucien would have liked her to stay in overnight, but the idea only upset her so he agreed on the proviso that if she didn't begin to recover properly she would be back in hospital.

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He'd made her comfortable on the couch and went to make her some tea.

He took the tray in a was relieved to be greeted by a small smile. He smiled back and sat down with her, pouring her some tea then helped her to sit up.

'Can you remember what happened?' He asked, gently. 'Matthew will want to know.'

'I think so.' She furrowed her brow as she went over the incident in her mind, 'I'd stop to look at the farm, I was wondering if I dare drive past, but I decided I'd have to make it look as if I was just driving past but it's the long way home and I was concerned I'd run out of fuel. So I decided to come home. ' She turned to look at him, 'Lucien, I did everything right, I indicated, I looked and I pulled away slowly. It's not a busy road, really. Then there was a huge crash and I felt the car stop hard, then I suppose I must have banged my head. I saw a car, I think, speeding off but I don't know who it was.'

'Hm...' he thought, 'somebody didn't want to get caught, or was trying to get away from some other misdeed, perhaps.'

He put his arm round her shoulders and kissed her head.

'Lucien, why was Jack there?' She looked worried.

'Not sure, but he said something about hearing the crash while he was checking the peach trees.' He also had wondered what Jack was doing there.

'There are no peach trees on the farm.' She looked puzzled. 'There were apple, pear and plum trees, but no peach.'

'Well let's not worry about it shall we?' He squeezed her shoulder comfortingly, 'He said he'd ring later to see how you are.'

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Lucien wouldn't let Jean make the dinner, she was to stay on the couch until bedtime. Charlie was home in time to cook and although Jean didn't really feel like eating much she insisted she sit at the table. They were half way through dinner when the phone rang. Lucien answered it, it was Jack.

Lucien assured him his mother was ok, in a little pain but that would pass. He smiled when he listened to Jack say something to him, a smile of relief. He waved the receiver at Jean and she indicated she would like to speak to her youngest son. Lucien moved his chair closer and helped her move over.

'Hello, Jack.' She said, quietly and apprehensively, 'how are you?'

There was a pause while she listened to the answer, and she smiled at it.

'I'm ok. Sore and my neck's stiff. Lucien's making me wear a collar.' She told him. 'Jack, why were you there?'

She listened to the answer, smiling, looking happier than she usually did when anything concerned Jack.

'I'd like that.' She replied to his question, 'and perhaps when I'm allowed to cook again you could come over for dinner.'

'Bye, Jack.' She smiled at Lucien as she put the receiver down.

'You don't mind if he comes to see me, do you?' She asked him as he helped her back to the table to finish her dinner.

'Of course not.' Lucien pointed at her plate and looked at her. 'He's welcome anytime.'

'Did he tell you why he was there?' She asked starting to eat again, she felt a little hungrier now.

'Just said it was ok, he wasn't in trouble and hiding out.' Lucien grinned.

'He's bought the farm.' She told him, smiling, 'he's decided he's a farm boy at heart and is going to try to make it into a fruit farm. That's why he has peach trees.'

'That's wonderful, darling.' Lucien said as he got up to take the plates to the sink, now hers was clean.

'It is, isn't it.'

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Lucien settled Jean in bed telling her to get some sleep.

'But I'm not tired.' She pouted.

He sat on the edge of the bed and smiled at her. He knew that look but not so soon after a head injury, he decided.

'My darling, Jean,' He leant forward and kissed her, 'much as it would give me great pleasure to ravish you senseless, you need to rest. That was a nasty bang on the head, so we need to be sensible.'

She pouted again, knowing full well he was right. 'Alright, if you say so, doctor.'

'I do. Now rest.' He picked up her hand and kissed it, 'I'll be through soon.'

He was pleased to see she was asleep when he returned. She had this particular way of wriggling against him that usually led to all sorts of shenanigans! Not that he was complaining.

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There will be at least one more chapter after this. We need to find out who crashed into Jean, and why they drove off. Also, what effect Jack's return has on everybody.

Thank you for the lovely reviews.


	3. Chapter 3 Recovering

A proposition for Jack, and Lucien decides Jean is recovering from her head bump!

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Lucien would not let Jean do anything for the next few days, except answer the door to his patients and occasionally make some tea. It started to become frustrating for the usually active woman, so she was glad of a little diversion in the shape of Jack, who had decided he'd take the doctor up on his suggestion and visit her to see how she was.

'Jack!' She almost squealed with delight when she opened the door to him and he wrapped his arms round her and lifted her off the floor in a bear hug.

'Well, apart from the lovely bruise,' he smiled, 'you look a heck of a lot better than the other day.'

'I am, thank you.' She agreed, 'I'd cover the bruise with makeup but Lucien says I could get the cut infected and won't let me.'

'Well he is the doctor, mum.' He grinned, 'and I'm glad you're behaving yourself.'

Jean blushed, doing as she was told and behaving were, in her eyes, two very different things.

'Where's the collar?' He asked, noticing she wasn't wearing what he would recognise as a neck brace.

'I only need to wear it if it starts to hurt. I mustn't get used to it.' She answered. 'Now, tea?'

'Great, I could do with a cup.' He followed her down to the kitchen and watched her prepare the tea. 'Where is the doc?' He suddenly realised Lucien hadn't appeared.

'Down at the station, he and Alice are examining the marks on the car and several others that have corresponding damage.' She put a plate of shortbread out, freshly made.

'Still baking I see,' he took a piece and his eyes lit up at the memory of pinching shortbread straight out of the oven when he was a child.

'Yes, and am I going to be in trouble for it.' She grinned, 'I'm not supposed to do anything in the kitchen, poor old Charlie has had to do all the cooking.'

'So why are you disobeying orders?' He looked her straight in the eye.

'Don't be so cheeky, you may be taller than me, but you are still my son.' She teased, laughing at his mock severity. 'I get bored.'

'You could always knit.' He suggested, 'Christopher tells me you keep sending little cardigans and suchlike for Amelia.'

'Unfortunately, at the moment it makes my neck ache, so I'm not knitting or sewing.' She pulled a face at the thought of the mending waiting for her needle and thread.

She poured the tea and they sat at the kitchen table.

'Why did you buy the farm, Jack?' She asked, 'I would have thought you'd want something away from here.' But she looked sad at the thought.

'It came up, in my price range.' He admitted, taking another piece of shortbread, 'I wasn't looking anywhere in particular. All I wanted was room to grow fruit and I remembered there was a small orchard.'

'It's a lovely idea,' She reached over and squeezed his hand, '...and peach trees. They won't produce until next year though.'

'Well there's a good reason to come back, my own personal gardening teacher.' He remarked with a chuckle. Jean joined in the laughing and when Lucien opened the door that was what he heard, his beloved wife laughing, something she hadn't done properly since the accident. He smiled and went to see what had made her laugh.

'Hello, Jack.' He was genuinely please to see he had come to see his mother, he had wondered if he would.

Jack stood up and went to shake Lucien's hand, the hand of friendship.

'Doctor, good to see you.' He smiled. 'I was just being reminded how much mum knows about plants and growing things.'

'That she does.' Lucien went round the table and kissed Jean, properly, why not? Then he glanced at the table, 'Hm...been baking, I see.' He took a biscuit.

'I sat down, Lucien.' She pouted, which made his heart leap, 'and I was getting bored.'

'As long as you're ok.' He stroked his hand over her head, 'I just want you to be comfortable.'

'I'm fine, really.' She smiled up at him.

Lucien took a cup and saucer out of the cupboard and poured himself some tea.

'Lucien, let me make some fresh,' Jean protested, 'that's bound to be stewed.'

'It's o...' he grimaced, 'perhaps you're right, but I'll make it.'

Jean rolled her eyes, she'd have to find a way to show him she was fine, really. Jack leaned over and squeezed her hand,

'He's the doctor, mum.' He reminded her.

'Thank you, Jack.' Lucien turned from the kettle, 'I'm glad somebody's noticed.'

'She's always been stubborn, doc.' Jack told him, 'you won't change her.'

'Hey!' She retorted, 'I am here you know!'

They all laughed and Lucien had to admit, to himself, that really she was well enough to return to most of her duties as his right hand.

'So, Jack, what are your plans with the farm?' Lucien asked as he too tucked into Jean's shortbread.

'Well, the plan is to get it going as a market garden, grow fruit mainly and sell at the market, from the farm and eventually to the hotels and restaurants.' Jack outlined his ideas. 'I know it's going to take a lot and the poisoned soil doesn't help but , hopefully, I'll be able to grow gooseberries and strawberries and other soft fruit.'

'On your own?' Lucien and Jean chorused.

'For now,' Jack admitted, 'I can't afford to hire anyone.'

'Would it help if you had a regular order?' Lucien asked.

'Well, it would, but I can't offer much at the moment, apples and pears are good.' Jack wondered what he was getting at.

'Well, for some time now we have ensured that the orphanage have a regular delivery of fruit for the children.' Lucien started.

'I usually go down to the fruiterers and select the fruit on a Monday,' Jean continued. 'But it's not the same shop every time.'

Lucien looked at her with surprise. When he'd suggested it and asked her to organise it he hadn't actually known how she did it. He assumed it was a regular delivery that he paid for, from one supplier. In fact, Jean had been choosing the fruit and delivering it herself, that way no fruit shop was aware of the arrangement and they couldn't send substandard or damaged goods.

'Well, I could certainly supply some fruit and at a good price.' Jack said, scratching his head. 'But it's seasonal, I can't supply all year round, well not until I can sort out the storage. The old barn needs serious work.'

'Work out your prices and let us know what you can supply now.' Lucien said.

'Ok.' Jack said, he couldn't turn down the trade, 'I'll let you know the figures before next Monday.'

'Lovely,' Lucien grinned.

Jack left feeling somewhat surprised, he had his first order and he knew it wasn't because Jean was his mother. He knew Dr Blake was a champion of local issues these days, Christopher had told him how they had both changed and were extremely well respected in the area, so it only followed he would look to a local man to supply the fruit for a local children's home.

Over dinner Lucien asked Jean why she didn't just let the fruiterers supply the fruit and pay for it when the bill was submitted.

'I did, to begin with.' She served him the first dinner she had cooked that week, 'but I went up to see how it was going and I wasn't pleased with the standard. Bruised and damaged apples and pears, over ripe bananas and dried oranges, not good enough, Lucien.'

'Why didn't you say?' He speared a potato, deliberately.

'You were busy, you'd asked me to sort it out and I was your housekeeper and receptionist at the time.' She didn't look him in the eye, it seemed so long ago, when they had only just become friends, really. 'So I did, but my way.'

'You're wonderful,' he took her hand and kissed it, 'you were then, I just didn't see it.'

She got up and cleared the plates away and he joined her at the sink. They finished the pots and Lucien stood behind her to undo her apron. She leant back against him, and felt his breath on her neck. She sighed,

'Don't suppose you'd like to show me how wonderful, later.' She wriggled against him.

He groaned, 'Why wait?'

'I do like it when Charlie's out.' She turned and lifted her lips to his, opening her mouth just enough to encourage his tongue in.

He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around him. He carried her through the living room and into the bedroom where he lay her down on the bed.

She lay and looked up at him, a sultry smile on her face.

'Lucien,' she breathed...

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She woke and stretched, rolling her head feeling no ill effects from the previous night. She smiled, who knew that wild abandoned lovemaking would cure a sore neck! She looked over at her husband, fast asleep still; and smiled again.

She rolled out of bed and went to the bathroom before going and making a tray of tea for her and Lucien. Charlie was not only out, as she had noted the previous night, he was in Melbourne visiting his mother for the week. She and Lucien had the house to themselves, apart from surgery times. She could confine him to the bedroom if she so wished!

Lucien turned over to find the bed empty. He blinked, where was she, he knew he shouldn't have given in to her last night, her neck...

'Tea, darling.' She pushed the door open with her foot and smiled at him. His sigh of relief at the sight of her was more than audible, it almost rang round the room.

'Jean,' he almost shouted, 'I...'

'Silly boy,' she grinned, 'I have to visit the bathroom sometime.' She raised her eyebrows. 'Where did you think I'd gone?'

'I didn't know, your neck...'

'Is fine, the ultimate cure.' She grinned. '...maybe. It may need more...' she looked at him from under her lashes.

He sank back down into the pillows and sighed again.

She sat on the bed, 'Sorry, am I being too demanding?'

He sat up and laughed, 'Am I allowed to visit the bathroom and have a cup of tea, first?'

'Oh I suppose so,' she feigned annoyance. He slipped out of the bed and she sat admiring his back, the scars were, to her, barely visible, the tight buttocks and strong leg muscles excited her. She had quickly lost her embarrassment at admiring her husband's body and had even lost her shyness at him seeing her naked.

The return of Jack had brought back to mind her life with his father. Christopher had never paraded about naked, he had never taken her as recklessly as Lucien did. He rarely took her nightdress off, just raising it enough for his purposes. But that was the past, this was the present, and what a present!

She was drinking tea when he returned. He smiled at her feigned indifference to his nakedness and went round to his side of the bed. She handed him a cup of tea and moved so she was settled against his shoulder. They drank in silence, a simple, almost meditational act.

She put her cup down on the tray and took his empty cup from him, setting it beside hers. She took the tray and leant over the side of the bed to leave it on the floor. As she did so she felt his finger trace a light line down her back, all the way to the end of her spine, then slipping under her bottom. She rolled over to him and started to run her fingers down his body...

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She turned and looked at the clock on the bedside table, nearly ten o'clock. She would have to get up and bathe, so would Lucien. Her stomach rumbled, the lack of breakfast, other things having taken precedence, was not good for either of them. She pushed the covers aside and got out of bed, heading for the bathroom.

'Where're you going?' A sleepy voice asked.

She turned and smiled, 'Bath,' and glided out of the room.

Sometimes Lucien thought he was dreaming, especially when she left a room like that.

Mei Lin had always been a willing lover, but not as willing as Jean, or as giving. She didn't share the bath or the shower, she didn't seduce him with looks or feigned indifference, that he found incredibly sexy. Jean was a unique woman, partner and lover and she would be the last woman he desired.

He pushed the covers back that she had left covering him. Rolling his shoulders he slipped out of bed and put on his robe. Perhaps Jean would like her back scrubbing or massaging.

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The water was growing cold, she shivered.

'Lucien,' she murmured, 'I need to get out and so do you. Surgery is at two and we haven't had breakfast, I need to do some shopping or we don't eat tonight.

'Boring,' he moaned.

'Boring or not, my darling, these things have to be done.' She scolded him and pulled herself out of the bath.

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The trouble with Charlie being away for a week was that they had the freedom to do as they wanted in the evenings. The only ongoing case was hers. Who had crashed into her by the turning to the farm. Lucien would be away in the mornings detecting with Alice, searching Ballarat for cars with damage that could have been sustained at the scene, while the police officers looked into car repair shops locally.

Any autopsies would be carried out then, but, contrary to popular belief, Ballarat was not a hotbed of murder. Deaths due to illness could be dealt with by the pathologist, who called in the police surgeon when necessary, but Alice knew Blake was more concerned with bringing the hit and run driver to justice, and not just because it was Jean who was involved. He would have done the same for a tramp.

Jean shopped and baked and cooked meals, everything was normal and usual and ordinary.

The afternoons, two to four, were surgery. Agnes as usual came to be told she wasn't looking after herself; the usual checkups, vaccinations and clinics continued.

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Jean headed into the studio. Lucien had disappeared after he had helped her wash up after dinner, making a 'call of nature' excuse, and said he'd pour her a drink in the studio, as usual.

She opened the door, the only light was the flickering of the fire and she could see the top of her husband's head as he rested against the back of the chair.

'No lights, darling?' She asked.

'Do we need them?' Was his reply, hinting at something dangerous.

'Well...' She made her way to the chair at the other side of the fireplace, the one facing his, where her sherry sat on the side table. She turned to sit in the chair and only then noticed that Lucien was wearing his robe, and judging by the strong calves stretched out in front of the hearth, nothing else.

'Lucien,' She barely breathed, but he was on his knees, sliding his hands up her legs and she fell completely and utterly under his spell, forgetting her rule about the bedroom.

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Well I'll leave that to your imaginations, mine's definitely M, but I don't think I can quite write it!


	4. Chapter 4 Guilt

The fire had burnt down to glowing embers as Jean stirred. She was draped over her husband and he had draped his robe over her. He'd done things to her in front of the fire she didn't think possible and she had given in to him. Maybe he was right, in front of the fire in the studio was rather nice, a bit daring if Charlie was around. She looked around for her clothes, they appeared to have been tossed over a chair as Lucien had almost ripped them off her. She giggled.

'Hmm..?' Lucien murmured, 'something funny, my love?'

Her answer was to wriggle against him, noting a predictable reaction, she giggled again and moved up his body to kiss him. He tightened his grip around her,

'So what happened to 'only in the bedroom'?' He managed to say before she covered his mouth with hers again.

'Complaining?' She whispered as she moved down to kiss his collarbone.

'No.' He rolled over, taking her with him and raised himself up on his hands to look down on her. 'My turn.'

She groaned, he certainly didn't take much persuading, and let him bring the universe to her.

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They lay facing each other, smiling and caressing.

'I love you, Lucien.' She whispered.

'Oh, Jean, my darling Jean.' He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head, how to tell her she was his world?

Suddenly he heard the phone ring.

'Now? Bloody hell!' He cursed, 'Excuse me, my angel.' He left her covered with the robe and went to the study phone, the nearest.

When he returned she was stoking the fire, wearing his robe, which was much too big for her and made her look dainty and fragile. He smiled.

'Sorry, sweetheart,' He crouched down next to her, 'Matthew says they have someone who may have hit you. He wants me to be in on the interview.'

'Please be sensible,' Jean worried that his anger over her being hurt and left at the side of the road would get the better of him. 'I'm alright, no lasting damage.'

'I'll do my best.' He kissed her cheek and went to wash and dress.

He called through, 'I'll try not to be too long, Jean.' and she heard the door close.

She curled up in his chair by the fire and smiled. 'My angel,' she giggled at the thought, they had been anything but angelic!

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The streets of Ballarat were quietening down, the pubs had closed and most people were heading home. He turned into the station and saw his car there, waiting to be released so he could get it repaired. Alice had lent him hers, Matthew collected her on his way past, or she walked.

He strode into the building and met Bill at the desk.

'Boss is in the interview room.' He was told and he headed there purposefully. He was still angry at the driver for not stopping, prepared to give them a piece of his mind. He looked through the window by the door and was surprised to see Susan Tyneman sitting there. Matthew turned and waved him in.

'Matthew,' he turned at looked at Susan, 'Susan.'

'Mrs Tyneman was just going to explain how Patrick's car has sustained damage to the nearside front wing and how the paint matches that left on your car, Dr Blake.' Matthew informed him.

'Patrick's car?' Lucien sat down, 'so why isn't Patrick here?'

'Patrick was in Melbourne that day, he'd gone by train so Mrs Tyneman could have use of the car.' Matthew said.

'So you were driving.' Lucien looked at Susan, who was in turn staring at a cigarette burn on the desk.

'Yes.' She admitted, quietly.

'Why were you in such a hurry?' Lucien asked.

'I was late, I had to collect Patrick from the station.' She wouldn't meet his eye. Ever since she found out that the car she had struck was his and Jean was in it she had known that at some time she would be found out. But she couldn't bring herself to go and tell the police she was to blame, and when she found out that Jean was going to be alright she had decided that she'd leave it. A coward's way out, she knew, and yet she knew Blake's reputations for solving crimes.

'Where had you been?' Matthew asked tapping his pen on the file.

'Don't tell Patrick.' She urged.

'Don't tell him what?' Lucien raised his voice a little, 'that you drove too fast, hit a car and didn't stop to see if the driver was alright, or where you'd been?'

'He knows about the car.' She said, 'I told him I'd hit a tree.'

'Again, Mrs Tyneman,' Matthew interrupted, 'where had you been?'

Susan studied the cigarette burn again, biting her bottom lip.

'Susan,' Lucien leant on the table and spoke low, 'all you had to do was go up to the farm and tell them to call an ambulance. So, what are you hiding?'

'If Patrick finds out...' She whispered.

'What, in heaven's name are you hiding!?' Lucien was getting angry now and his voice was getting louder. Matthew put his hand on the doctor's arm, warning him to tone it down. Lucien stood up and put his thumb and forefinger to his brow. This was so frustrating!

'Mrs Tyneman,' Matthew leant back on his seat, 'we can hold you overnight in the cells if you don't start to talk. I don't think your husband is going to be too pleased about that. And I've no idea what you would face if it became known that you refused to cooperate with the police.' Though he did have a pretty good idea, and it wouldn't be nice.

'I was on my way back from Creswick.' She muttered.

'What was your business in Creswick, Susan?' Lucien asked.

She coloured, a deep red flushed her cheeks. Neither Lucien or Matthew could ever remember Susan Tyneman being embarrassed that way.

'Susan?' Lucien questioned.

'I was meeting someone,' she whispered, 'a friend.'

Lucien raised his eyebrows, was Susan..? No, surely not, but then Patrick did, and he wasn't particularly subtle about it, either.

'Is this friend male, by any chance?' Matthew asked, to hell with being discreet.

Susan bit her lip again, this time trying to stop tears of humiliation.

'Don't tell Patrick, please.' She practically begged.

'It's not for us to report your indiscretions to your husband, but, Susan,' Lucien said, 'if the new owner of the farm hadn't heard the crash it could have been a lot worse for Jean.'

'I'm sorry, Dr Blake,' she hadn't been able to hold back the tears any longer, 'I would never willingly hurt Jean, or anyone else.'

'Excuse us a moment, Mrs Tyneman,' Matthew stood and ushered Lucien out of the room, 'Blake, it's up to you as to whether we press charges or not.'

Lucien thought, 'She should have some sort of punishment, I suppose.' He mused. 'But does Patrick have to know she's doing the same as him, but being a heck of a lot more discreet about it?'

'Can't blame her, can you?' Matthew agreed.

'No, not really.' Lucien smoothed his hand over his head as he thought.

'How is Jean?' Matthew hadn't had chance to ask lately.

'Eh? Oh she's fine, now, thanks,' and a slow smile spread over his face.

'How about a driving ban and a fine?' Matthew suggested. 'Charged with speeding and dangerous driving, leaving the scene of an accident?'

'Isn't that what you'd normally do?' Lucien asked.

'Well, yes, but in the case of endangering life, which is what she did, I'd propose a ban of a year.' Matthew agreed, 'but it has to go before the Magistrate.'

'That way it's up to her what she tells Patrick about why she was on that road.' Lucien said, 'and he has no room to talk, anyway. But, I'm sorry Matthew, I want her to have some punishment. She can't get away with it just because of who she is, and I would want that even if it wasn't Jean she hurt.'

'Agreed, I'll sort out the court and we'll make it as discreet as possible.' Matthew went to go back into the room, 'by the way, who is the new owner of the farm? He may be called to give evidence, if he's willing.'

'It's Jack Beazley, Jean's youngest.' Lucien smiled, 'he wasn't going to tell her he was back until he got the farm up and running but when he heard the crash he went to help. He was quite shocked to see his mother in the car.'

'Really, I'd have thought coming back here was the last thing on his mind.' Matthew looked surprised.

'The farm came up, it was in his price range,' Lucien told him, 'he's planning on fruit farming, supplying locally. He's grown up Matthew.'

Matthew bade him good night and told him he'd let him know when the hearing was scheduled to be. It should be quite soon, he said, as it was Magistrate's Court.

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Lucien pulled onto the drive and sat for a moment. How would Jean feel about it being Susan Tyneman who ran into her on the way back from seeing her paramour?

He expected to find her in bed but the room was empty. He had a wicked notion she was in the studio still, waiting. He pushed open the door and was surprised to see her clothes where he'd tossed them earlier in the evening, he felt sure she would have tidied up while she waited. He tiptoed into the room and looked in his chair. What a beautiful sight! She was curled up, still wearing his robe and fast asleep, her curls falling over her sweet cheeks, covering one eye making her look even more desirable.

He tiptoed back to the bedroom and turned back the covers. He hung his jacket over the chair and took his tie off, then went to collect his love from where she slept. He gently lifted her into his arms and she murmured something but didn't wake. She didn't stir as he lay her in the bed and pulled the covers over her, not even removing the robe. He changed into his pyjama trousers and joined her, pulling her close and kissing her forehead softly.

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He woke as Jean brought their morning tea tray into the bedroom. It had become the norm for them to have tea together before starting the day; against all Jean's previous rules of not eating or drinking in the bedrooms, unless confined to bed through illness.

'Morning, gorgeous,' he smiled at her. She had her own robe on, but he could tell there was nothing underneath it, still.

'Morning, handsome.' She smiled back and sat next to him. 'How did it go, at the station?' She sipped her tea.

'Good,' he said, blowing over his cup to cool his drink.

'Come on, Lucien.' She chastised, 'it was me that got hurt, I've a right to know.'

'Indeed you have, my dearest,' he agreed, taking her cup off her.

'It was Susan Tyneman.' Well no point beating about the bush.

Jean's eyes nearly popped out of her head. 'Susan Tyneman!' She looked at him, 'no!'

'Afraid so.'

'Why didn't she stop?, she knows the car.' Jean was disappointed. While she couldn't call Susan a friend she would have expected her to stop.

'In a hurry to pick Patrick up from the station.' Lucien informed her, 'and she reckons she didn't realise it was our car.'

'Well, that's rot,' Jean snorted, 'she had a look over it one day when I was in town. Anyway, it doesn't matter whose car it is, the fact is she should have stopped to see if anyone was hurt, that's just common decency.'

Lucien had to admit she was quite right.

'Where had she been?' Jean asked.

'Creswick,' Lucien said, 'and before you ask, because I know you will, she'd been to see her lover.'

'What!?' Jean was incredulous, 'well!' She ran out of words for a few minutes.

'Hope he was worth it.' She got out of bed and went to the bathroom to shower.

Lucien sat in bed, watching her leave the room. He smiled, in fact he found Jean's reaction to the last titbit rather amusing.

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Looks like this story is going to be longer than originally planned, no surprises there. Perhaps if I cut out the 'shenanigans'...!


	5. Chapter 5 The hand of friendship

Lucien was relieved to get his car back and put it into the garage for repairs, he'd be glad to give Alice her car back and he was sure she'd be glad to get it back. Jean insisted before he did it was cleaned inside and out!

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'What the bloody hell did you think you were doing?' Patrick yelled, 'leaving the scene of an accident?'

Susan had no choice but to admit that she hadn't hit a tree, in fact she was the one who hit Jean Blake and left her there, at the side of the road. The summons had arrived for her to appear at the Law Court, it had been decided it should go higher than a Magistrate and she had been advised to engage a lawyer. Patrick was furious.

'You would have made a scene if I'd been late picking you up, you always do!' She threw back.

'So you show up on time, with a damaged front wing and lie to me, telling me you hit a tree!' He continued to shout at her, 'you stupid woman!'

'How dare you speak to me like that, I am your wife!' She screamed back at him.

'Where had you been?' He changed tack.

'With a friend.' She answered truthfully.

'I thought all your friends were here in Ballarat.' Patrick said. 'I've never noticed you go out of town to see a friend.'

'Patrick, she sighed heavily, 'you wouldn't notice if I walked around the house stark naked!'

'For god's sake!' He started to raise his voice again, 'don't be so bloody disgusting.' He grimaced.

'Well thank you, Patrick.' She snapped, 'now I really know what you think of me!'

She stormed out of the room and went to phone their lawyer.

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'Are you sure about this, Jack?' Jean asked.

They were sitting drinking tea in the living room. Jack had been asked to give evidence and had agreed.

'You do know they may bring up your history, Jack, don't you?' Lucien informed him.

'That's in the past, doc.' Jack said, stubbornly. 'If I can help I will. It's my mother that was hurt.'

'Thank you,' Jean leant over and squeezed his hand. 'I'd better get on with dinner, will you stay?'

'That's kind of you, mum.' He smiled at her, 'but I'd better get back.'

'To what,' she grinned, 'bacon and eggs or a sandwich. Stay and eat with us, please.' She added softly.

The idea of a proper home cooked meal, especially one of his mother's was too tempting to pass up.

'Go on then.' He laughed.

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Dinner was a cheerful affair. Jack told of some of his adventures since leaving them after the Dennison case. Jean had blanched when he had said he had stayed in some less than wholesome places and even under the stars. He had assured he had been fine and he had managed to save enough for the deposit on the farm by doing so.

'Well, we're glad you're here, Jack.' Said Lucien, 'I think you must be very like your mother.'

'You mean stubborn, doc?' Jack laughed.

Lucien laughed to especially as Jean rolled her eyes, knowing she was beaten.

'If you're going to be like that, you two can wash up.' She decided.

'Ok, mum,' Jack smiled, 'fair exchange for a great meal.'

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They waved Jack off after he had helped Lucien wash up and they had had an evening drink. Jean had parcelled up some leftovers and some shortbread for him and he hadn't turned it down. He was living on basics, not yet having sorted the kitchen out properly, so the meal was welcome. He felt comfortable being there, the doctor was gentle and protective towards his mother and he liked that. He didn't remember his father being so mindful of his mother's comfort. Unlike Christopher he remembered the rows. He'd sat outside the living room at night, unable to sleep because of the shouting, but it was too late now to tell her, it would only upset her and she was so very happy.

Lucien closed and locked the door and pulled her close, kissing her gently on the lips.

'Happy, sweetheart?' He whispered.

'Mm...are you?' She kissed him back.

'Yes, but...' he slid his hand down her back and over her bottom, pulling her closer. She raised an eyebrow and giggled.

'Shh.' He put his finger over her lips, 'Charlie'll hear you.'

She kissed the finger and put her hands on his chest. 'The fire's lit in the studio,' she whispered.

'Is it now?' He murmured and picked her up. She planted little kisses on his neck as he carried her there, running her fingers through the hair at the back of his head, letting the curls loose from the hair cream he used.

He smiled as he went into the room, no lights, just the fire and their robes on the couch. She's planned this, he thought.

He placed her gently on his chair and knelt before her. He took her hands in his and kissed them; first each finger then the palms.

She put her hands on each side of his face and slid off the chair, his hands moved up her legs, under her skirt and as she knelt over him her hands moved to his chest and she began to undo his shirt buttons. As they slowly undid buttons, clips and zips and lifted garments off each other, they kissed, tasting the whisky and sherry that lingered from their evening drinks. Tonight it would be no frantic coupling, but slow, leisurely, almost meditational loving. Rising and falling in rhythm and arching in release, until they lay, exhausted, wrapped in each other in front of the glowing embers of the fire.

He traced his finger down the length of her, from her shoulder down her side over her hips but no further.

'You are so beautiful, Jean.' He murmured, 'I don't know what I've done to deserve you.'

She didn't answer, just smiled and snuggled closer and felt his arms close round her. She felt she was the lucky one, to find a love and a lover at this time in her life, when her friends were settling to knitting and quiet evenings with a book. When she had told them she was marrying Dr Blake one or two had said how nice to have a companion. Another had remarked that at her age why bother, after all... intimating they would not be 'having relations'. There were many times she smiled at these thoughts, that the sort of behaviour she and Lucien indulged in stopped after you were forty, apparently. The rest of Ballarat, the gossips, had said it was about time they regularised their relationship. You couldn't please everyone she decided, so, she just pleased herself.

Jack's reappearance in her life had made her think again how lucky she was. Jack was genuinely happy for her, said she had a glow about her. He was much more accepting than Christopher who was grudgingly coming to understand that she wasn't at his beck and call, that she had a life she was going to live to the full.

'Come on, love,' Lucien interrupted her thoughts, 'think we'd better head to the bedroom.'

'Mm,' she hummed, 'perhaps you're right.' She extracted herself from him arms and threw his robe at him, then put on hers, and headed to the bathroom.

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Jean became a little agitated as the date for Susan's appearance at the Court drew near.

'Don't worry,' Lucien kept assuring her, 'it's an easy case. She admits she did wrong, Matthew has all the evidence from the site. When you're called all you have to say is exactly what you remember, what you told Matthew.'

'I know,' she smiled and leant against him, 'I think I'm more worried for Jack, if he gets called.'

'Well. even though he's not my son,' Lucien kissed her head, 'I'm proud of the way he's prepared to stand up for you even if his past might be raised.'

'Oh, Lucien,' her eyes brightened, 'what a lovely thing to say. I'm proud of him too, but for more than that, for accepting you as my husband, and for having the strength to come back.'

'Mm...' Lucien mused. He'd noticed something in Jack's face whenever he caught them kiss, even lightly. It was more than acceptance, it was almost a delight in his mother's smiles. Christopher never looked so happy, in fact they seemed to avoid touching in her elder son's presence.

'What?' She broke through his thoughts.

'Hm? Oh nothing. I was just thinking how different the boys are, about us.' He said. 'Well enough thinking, I have surgery to prepare for, and don't you have a couple of babies to weigh, today?'

'Everything is ready, for both of us.' She grinned, 'your patient notes are on your desk and my things are ready.' She kissed him lightly on the cheek and went to check her makeup was alright and her hair was neat and tidy.

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They stood outside the Court, Jean gripped her men's hands. Jack looked down and smiled at her.

'It's ok, mum.' He grinned, 'you're not the one on trial.'

Lucien just squeezed her hand gently in agreement.

Inside they saw Susan and Patrick. Patrick looked like he was sucking a lemon, according to Jack, which made Jean smile; but Susan looked pale and drawn and she felt a pang of pity for her. Perhaps if Patrick treated his wife half as well as Lucien treated her she wouldn't have the need to find comfort in another man's arms.

Jack was called first. He told them exactly what he had heard and seen. Susan's lawyer was the one who saw fit to introduce Jack's past involvement with the law and question his fitness to give an honest view, given the victim was his mother.

'It's true, I have had problems in the past,' he admitted, 'and yes it was a firearms charge. But I paid the penalty for that and that is in the past and has nothing to do with this.' The lawyer interrupted.

'Please, if I may finish.' Jack looked at the Judge who had come from Bendigo as a local man may have been less than objective, given Patrick's standing in Ballarat. He nodded,

'I'd like to hear what Mr Beazley has to say.'

Jack continued, 'I didn't know it was my mother in the car, I didn't know the car so how could I? I had planned to see her when I had the farm up and running, to surprise her, show her I had grown up, shall we say? To me it was someone in trouble and I would have done the same if it had been Mrs Tyneman or anyone else in that position, so I don't think my past has anything to do with this.'

The Judge nodded, 'I don't think we need to go down that line, do we?' He looked at Susan's lawyer. 'You may step down, young man.' He turned to Jack.

Matthew was called to say what he had found at the scene, how the car had been pushed almost into the ditch, damage to the front door and wing. The indicator was still going, showing that Mrs Blake had done as she should. He confirmed the road was a quiet one and wide enough for the other car to have gone round her should she have pulled out prematurely.

Lucien gave evidence as to the state of his wife when he got to the farm and her recovery. He said she had been lucky to escape with minor injuries and that her son had taken such good care of her, ensuring she did not come to further harm or go into shock.

Jean's evidence was short, she told them exactly what she had told Matthew. Susan's lawyer asked how she could remember, given she had a head injury.

'It was the last thing that happened to me before I went unconscious,' she said, 'it sticks in one's mind.' She didn't like him, she felt Patrick had a hand in trying to get Susan off with a light punishment. She felt he was trying to say it was her fault. 'You have the original version I wrote down as soon as I got home from hospital and my husband and Superintendant Lawson both signed and dated it. I kept a copy.'

'Very organised of you, Mrs Blake.' He sneered.

'I have to be.' She told him, tightly.

Susan was the last to be called, which both Lucien and Matthew found odd.

She stood in the box, trying to appear proud but failing miserably. She was hesitant in her answers, which were non-committal, her voice quiet and shaky. the Judge stopped her,

'Mrs Tyneman, I'm sorry but you need to speak up and please, shall we tell the truth.' He looked at Susan's lawyer who began to look worried. 'Tell the court what happened.'

Susan looked at him, then at her lawyer who would not meet her eye. He had told her to be as brief as possible and perhaps she could get away with a small fine. She then looked up to see Jean next to Lucien, holding his hand.

'I drove too fast. I was late to pick my husband up and he would make a scene if I was. I had been to see a friend in Creswick and stayed too long. I don't remember seeing the car pull out, I felt the crash but my car was still moving and it was only when I looked in the rear view mirror I realised I had hit a car but I carried on. I told my husband I had hit a tree. It was only later I heard I had hit Mrs Blake.' She started to cry, seeing Patrick glower at her from his seat, 'I'm sorry, Jean. I'm sorry.'

'Why did you not come forward?' The Judge had decided to take charge or they would still be there the following day.

'Cowardice.' She sniffed, 'I knew Patrick would be angry, I thought if I lay low I'd not be found out. I forgot how Dr Blake and the Superintendant always find out, in the end.'

They were sent out to wait for the Judge's decree. Jean's lawyer told her not to worry, that it was a cut and dried case. He confirmed Jean's thought's that Susan's lawyer, who represented the family, had been asked by Patrick to push for a lenient sentence and try and push the blame onto Mrs Blake.

Over at the Tyneman's 'side' of the waiting area Susan was being chastised by both her lawyer and husband. They both told her she was a fool for speaking up, they could have got at least half the blame pushed onto Jean if she had stuck to the plan. The more they went on the angrier she got. Finally she had had enough, she slammed her hands on the table and stood up, leaning over to them.

'I told the truth. Jean Blake was not to blame, I was. I was careless, I drove too fast and I didn't stop to see if the driver was hurt.' A harsh whisper but it could be heard by anyone there. She moved away and headed to the ladies room. Jean made to follow her but Lucien stopped her.

'Not now, darling.' He whispered, 'she wouldn't want to see you, just yet and you should wait until her sentence is passed.'

They were called back into the Court.

The Judge looked at Susan and her lawyer. He felt she had been ill served by both him and her husband.

'Mrs Tyneman,' he began a serious and almost sorrowful tone to his voice, 'you have admitted you were at fault in the accident and have displayed a high degree of remorse for your actions. You are lucky Mrs Blake was not hurt as much as she could have been, and I am assured by the doctor that she should suffer no long term ill effects bar a tendency to soreness in her neck, occasionally. Your idea that if you ignored it it would go away was ill thought out and childish. You state you were in a hurry to avoid a scene with your husband at the railway station; perhaps your husband should be more understanding that traffic does not run solely for his benefit and that heavy traffic, or perhaps animals on the road could also cause you to be late. It gives me no pleasure to see you here but I can see you are contrite. I could impose a custodial sentence on you but Dr Blake and Superintendant Lawson have indicated that I should be lenient. I hereby impose a twelve month driving ban on you and a fine of two hundred pounds.'

Patrick gave an audible gasp at the size of the fine.

'A problem, Mr Tyneman?' the Judge asked mildly.

'No, no of course not,' Patrick grunted ungraciously.

'Good, half of the money is to go to Mrs Blake to account for hers and Dr Blake's inconvenience at having to borrow a car for the duration of this case.' The Judge stood up and the usher called,

'All rise.'

A huge thundercloud had descended over Patrick, the fine, ok he could afford it, but to hand half over to the Blake's, that was almost too much. He turned and stormed out of the court not waiting for the lawyer or his wife.

Susan bowed her head and left.

Jean watched her go and found she felt very sorry for her. Patrick was a boor, a sulky child when things didn't go his way and everyone knew he didn't confine himself to his wife's bed.

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Outside in the entrance Patrick was nowhere to be found. Susan shook hands with her lawyer and walked out to see if she could find her husband. Their car was missing, all sorts of words to describe him ran through her head, and none of them were particularly polite. She set out to walk home knowing she would be stared at and talked about.

Standing on the steps of the courthouse Jean, Lucien and Jack watched her go.

'Lucien,' Jean said quietly, 'I think she's been punished enough, can we offer her a lift home, or wherever she's going?'

Lucien looked at her, how could she be so forgiving.

'Lucien?' She questioned his thoughts, 'after all, if she hadn't hit me, how long would it have been before Jack would have made himself known to us?'

'A blessing, indeed.' He agreed.

'Y'know, doc,' Jack said, 'there aren't many women like Jean Blake, and I'm glad this one happens to be my mother.'

'Let's take her home.' Lucien said, softly, 'it's quite a walk to face alone, today.'

They drew up beside her and Jean wound down the window,

'Susan, can we drop you somewhere?' She didn't want to suggest home.

'Off a cliff, perhaps?' Susan replied, bitterly, brushing away another tear.

'Stop the car, Lucien, please.' Jean said, shortly. She was a little cross with Susan, only because of the reply. She got out and stood in front of her.

'Susan, stop.' Jean was firm, 'I know Patrick is being his usual un helpful self. I, however, have reason to be almost grateful to you, even if I might blame you when I have neck ache. If you hadn't hit me I would have had to wait too long to find out that my son was back and doing a good thing, buying our old farm and turning it into a business. Don't keep punishing yourself, other people will be quite happy to do that for you, but I'm not one of them. Now where are you going? I'm guessing not home.'

'Erm, I'm going to the station.' Susan was surprised at Jean, her generosity was well known in Ballarat but had never been extended to her.

'Going to see your friend?' Jean asked, innocently.

'Yes,' Susan admitted, 'at least I know I'm wanted there, still, even after I hurt you.'

'Good, we always need our friends,' Jean smiled sympathetically, 'someone who accepts us for our failings. Come on, we'll drop you off; at the station.'

'Thank you, Jean.' Susan almost smiled.

'Pop round for a cuppa one day,' Jean offered the hand of friendship to one who had always looked down on her for being a simple housekeeper.

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Sorry if the court scene isn't quite right, it's a long time since I did jury service.

I began to feel sorry for Susan, Patrick is such a Neanderthal.

There will be one more short? chapter to this, hopefully tidying up a few loose ends; Jack's attitude to Lucien's love for Jean and his memories of his childhood.


	6. Chapter 6 All in the past

The most vicious gossip about Susan had begun to die down and much of that was due to Jean's open generosity. If she saw Susan in town she would offer her a lift, or suggest they had a cup of tea in a nearby cafe. Susan started to confide in Jean about her marriage, and how she wished she had not married Patrick but had gone against her parent's wishes and married a man who actually cared for her, and not her family's money. She refused to name the man, suffice to say he was not local.

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Jack became a frequent visitor. On Monday he delivered what fruit he had available for the orphanage and would stay for a cup of tea. It was on one of these visits that they started to talk about his childhood. He sat at the table and took something out of his pocket. It was a little wooden cow, from a toy farm he'd had as a child.

'Where on earth did you find that?' Jean sat down opposite and held out her hand.

'I had to take up some floorboards in mine and Christopher's old room. They've gone rotten and need replacing.' He said, sipping his tea. 'That was underneath.'

'I remember buying that farm for you, piece by piece as I could afford it.' She smiled, it had been tough times then, presents for the children were often homemade but this was one thing she bought them. 'It was your Christmas present that year, remember?'

'I do.' He grinned, remembering he and his brother ripping the paper off it yelling with joy. They'd nagged their parents when they had seen it in the toyshop.

'You played with it endlessly.' She turned the tiny toy round in her fingers, the paint worn off over the years, one of the horns missing.

'Dad didn't want you to buy it, though did he?' Jack's face was solemn as he remembered being told it was a waste of money.

'He didn't know until that Christmas morning I had.' Jean admitted. 'We could rarely afford such luxuries, but for once I wanted you to have a toy you could truly enjoy.'

She sighed, it had been just another row in what she remembered as a never ending series of rows between her and her first husband. Things for the boys. Christopher senior kept saying they had the trees in the orchard, the space to run around in, what did they need silly little models for?

'Sorry mum,' Jack stretched across the table and squeezed her hand, 'didn't mean to bring up sad memories.'

'Life wasn't what I hoped for, Jack, what I imagined a marriage would be, but I had to get on with it, 'for better or worse,' were my vows and I had to stick to them.' She smiled back at him.

'You're happy now though, aren't you?' Jack was sure she was but part of him wanted her to tell him so.

'Oh Jack,' She smiled, broadly this time, 'I am blissfully happy.'

'Good,' Jack said decisively, 'because I'd hate for you to have the same rows again.' There, he'd said it, admitted he knew about the fights.

'You knew!' She was horrified, she had no idea her child had heard them.

'I've never slept as deeply as Christopher,' he replied, 'I used to sit outside the room wherever you were rowing, wondering if you were going to split up.'

'Oh Jack,' Jean's eyes filled with tears, 'I'm so sorry, sweetheart, if I'd known...'

'Where could you go and row,' he sighed, 'it's not that big a house.'

'True, and rows can be spontaneous things.' She agreed, 'but all the same I'm so sorry you heard them. I hope you can't remember what I called him, or he me, come to that.'

'One or two things, probably because it was unlike you to say certain things,' Jack could remember very well what was said, he hadn't understood the words at the time, but he hoped she wouldn't ask.

'Yes I remember us both being rather uncomplimentary to each other.' She muttered.

'Any way,' she stood up and started to clear away the tea cups, 'that's all in the past and I have no need to use such remarks anymore.'

'Good,' Jack went over to her at the sink, 'I'm glad to hear it. I can see he makes you very happy, he loves you very much, that is obvious.' He kissed her cheek and said he'd better be going.

'Come over later in the week,' she returned the kiss, 'have dinner with us.'

'Mum, I am capable of feeding myself.' He turned back to her, 'but if you insist.'

'I do.' She let him see himself out, and finished the dishes.

She stared at the wall and leant on the sink as unbidden tears fell down her cheeks. How much had she and Christopher damaged their youngest son? Perhaps hearing the rows had been why he had been so affectionate towards her as a child. If she remembered rightly he always seemed to give her an extra hard good morning hug the morning after a row.

'Jean?' Lucien's voice was quiet and had a note of concern in it. He had crept up behind her to give her a hug and a kiss. He'd met Jack on the drive and he'd been warned that memories had been brought up and he hoped he hadn't upset his mother. Now he wondered if he should be angry at Jack, he hated Jean to cry.

'Oh, Lucien.' She wiped the tears away with her hands, 'I didn't hear you come in.' She smiled a little smile and held her face up for his kiss.

'I saw Jack on the drive, he was worried he'd upset you.' Lucien put his arm round her, 'he has, hasn't he?'

'Don't blame him, Lucien.' She worried he'd be angry and ban Jack from the house. 'I have often compared my two men, you know how I can over think things.'

'Oh, dare I ask..?' He looked at her with a twinkle in his eye.

'You shouldn't really, but, just so you know, and to show how much I trust and love you, ' she tipped her face and kissed him firmly on the lips, 'there is no comparison, you are everything to me.' She coloured a little at such an open declaration of love.

'Jean...' he whispered, but finding no words to reply in kind he leant down and pulled her into a long, deep and very passionate kiss that left both of them breathless.

'Really, Dr Blake,' she teased, then kissed him lightly on the cheek. 'I have to get on and make some lunch.'

'Must you?' He sulked, linking his hands behind her back and pulling her close, indicating what he fancied for lunch!

'Lucien!' She blushed, so unlike her these days, when he was suggestive.

He nibbled her earlobe, 'No surgery, is there?'

'Uh uh, no.' she gasped, 'but Charlie...' and she was lost as he nibbled down her jaw line,

'Charlie,' kiss, 'is', nibble, 'in', nip, 'Bendigo.' his tongue began to explore her mouth. He picked her up and carried her to the bedroom as she ran her fingers into the knot of his tie.

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He couldn't work out if she was crying or not as they lay satisfied under the covers. He pulled away enough to see her face, nope, she was giggling.

'Oh, well thank you, Jean.' He huffed, 'I thought I was ok in that department.' He pretended to sulk.

'More than ok, darling.' She grinned.

'So what's so funny?' He looked at her, eyes sparkling, her face flushed.

'Given what I have been talking about with Jack,' she wondered how to phrase this, 'if I remember rightly, Christopher would rather have had a sandwich for lunch.'

'Didn't know what he was missing,' Lucien raised his eyebrows as Jean wriggled against him in that certain way.

'Show me.' She breathed as her wriggle got the result she was hoping for.

'Woman, what am I going to do with you?' He sighed.

'Well, you could...' she whispered something in his ear that made even him blush.

'Jean!' He feigned horror, 'well alright then, if we must.'

And like every good soldier, Lucien did as he was told, leaving her exhausted, breathing hard and wrapped round him.

'I love you, my darling Lucien.' She whispered, allowing her eyes to close as he pulled the covers back over them.

He smiled at her, Christopher did not know what he had in Jean, of that he was sure, and her willingness to learn in bed had shown him that he had not given his lovely young wife any of the love she so craved. In his mind he promised her he would never stop loving her, ever.

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That is the end of this story, I hope there is enough of the past to show shy Jean gives in to Lucien so readily.

I hope you have enjoyed the story and thank you all for the lovely reviews.


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